


The Quiet

by barrdown



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2016-09-27
Packaged: 2018-08-17 14:04:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8146838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barrdown/pseuds/barrdown
Summary: One moment Latta and Wilson are best friends. One kiss changes everything. One crush changes everything. It seems like all they share now is the quietness that has engulfed their friendship/relationship/whatever you wanna call it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Fic inspired by the lyrics to THE QUIET by Troye Sivan

Before the first time they fucked, before the first time Latts found himself on his knees blowing Tom in a dirty stall of some bathroom in the back of a greasy bar the team had gone to after a solid win, before Tom pulled over the car and kissed Latts for the first time sober, and before Latts and Tom got wasted at a party and the two found themselves kissing for the first time in the living room of their shared apartment; the duo were inseparable, best friends who fit like a jigsaw puzzle. But that was before, that was before the kiss and the fucking, now it's more like Tom’s a rubik’s cube and Mike is the one who has to solve it; only problem is it's like he’s blindfolded with his hands tied behind his back and not in the way he was hoping for. 

Growing distance, free of explanation  
We're getting deeper in this mess  
Take careful contemplation  
I'd rather be spitting blood  
Than have this silence fuck me up

The first time they kissed Latts had orchestrated it, breaking the space between the two, pressing his hand to the side of Tom’s face as he moved his lips gently, trying to part Tom’s pair. They had just gotten back from a party at Backstrom’s, to celebrate the beginning of a new season, and with the regular season starting in less than a week the two boys were in eager debate about what would happen in the first game versus the Devils.   
Tom had a smile that stretched for miles, and that’s all Latts could focus on, finding himself tripping across the living room floor as Tom burst out laughing. His smile stretching even more than Latts thought was possible as he rolled over and sat up on his ass, staring up at Tom the way people stare at baby puppies; only to Latts, Tom was cuter than any puppy possibly could be.   
“Help me up, Tommy” Latts pouted, throwing his hands up in Tom’s direction as the younger hockey player stumbled a couple feet forward and bent over, hands gripping Latts’ as he was pulled up.  
The boys were immediately face to face with each other, inches between the tips of their noses as Latts stared into Tom’s eyes and saw galaxies instead of his reflection.  
“What?” Tom spoke softly, it was a simple question that Latts answered by closing the distance between the duo as he angled his neck up to press his lips against Tom’s pair. Latts raising his hand as he pressed it gently against the side of Tom’s cheek, feeling the prickliness of the other boy’s beard rubbing against the palm of his hand.   
Latts feels Tom press against him, however slightly he did so, or maybe Latts just thinks he does, because Tom breaks the kiss faster than Latts had given it.  
The two stand awkwardly in the middle of the living room when Tom pulls away, Latts dropping his hand to his side as he finally opens his eyes; wishing he hadn’t done what he had done.  
Tom says nothing, just simply walks past Latts and drops down on the couch, swinging his feet onto the table and turning on the tv, flicking through channels as Latts just stares, a million thoughts racing through his drunken mind.   
So Latts eventually just gives his head a shake, plopping himself down at the opposite end of the couch as neither of the two say anything as they watch the plays of the week on TSN.   
After an hour of silence between the two, and Latts feels himself crashing, he gets up and shouts ‘goodnight’ behind his back as he makes his way to his room.  
Tom doesn’t say ‘goodnight’. Tom doesn’t even reply. Tom always says ‘goodnight’ to Latts.   
Latts collapses onto his bed, eyes staring at the ceiling, listening to the sound of Tom shutting off the television in the living room, stopping momentarily by Latts door, causing the older boy’s heart to race a million miles per hours as he hoped Tom would just open it, and then walking away and shutting the door to his room.  
The only thing Latts heard for the rest of the night was the sound of his heart beating as he didn’t bother to move, continuing to stare at the ceiling as if he had just been punched in the gut. Tom always said goodnight. Always. Even after they fought over stupid shit or even serious shit, or just random shit. Tom always said goodnight. 

This separation,  
time and space between us  
For some revelation  
You didn't care to discuss  
I'd rather be black and blue  
Than accept that you withdrew

The next morning, or well afternoon by the time Latts wakes up, Tom is already in the kitchen drinking coffee over an opened newspaper, and a wave of panic washes over Latts as he remembers the kiss from the night before. He thinks it's been a good couple of minutes as he just stares at Tom’s naked back, the other boy not taking any notice to Latts’ presence in the kitchen. He’s eternally grateful, Latts is, that Tom isn’t looking at him, noticing the panic in his face and in the way he stands. Kissing Tom last night was everything Latts had wanted for the last year, and yet it was the one thing he wishes he would’ve never done even if it felt so good.  
Eventually, after maybe a few more minutes, Latts finds himself taking a small step, and then a larger one, as he finally cools down and enters the kitchen, back turned to Tom as he goes over to make himself a coffee with the tassimo machine.   
Tom’s the first one to speak, which surprises Latts, “Last night was crazy”  
Latts finds his throat tightening, remembering the feeling of Tom’s lips as he curls his hand around the mug he got from the cupboard, back still turned to Tom, watching the coffee pour into the mug from the machine.  
“Yeah” Latts blurts out a couple seconds later, listening to Tom’s mug being placed back onto the table, hearing him move in his seat, and just knowing by the sounds that he’s stretching out his arms. “Can’t believe that Burky threw up on himself”  
Tom responds with a small chuckle, and Latts finally turns around to get some milk from the fridge, and the two make eye contact for the first time since Latts had kissed Tom. It feels normal, like nothing happened, and Latts quickly pulls the milk out of the fridge and pours it in his coffee, putting it back in the fridge as he finds himself sitting across from the shirtless Tom.  
“So last night” Latts says after a few moments at the table, sipping his cup of coffee as he reaches over and takes a part of the newspaper and begins to read it, hoping to avoid the eye contact as Tom responds.  
“How many shots did we do? I’m honestly so hungover” Tom responds quickly, and by the hint of his voice, Latts knows that he remembers and knows that Latts is trying to bring it up. Latts knows Tom better than anyone, better than his family. He knows what every tone in his voice means, he just knows. Tom just doesn’t want to discuss it.  
“I don’t remember. Probably more than a dozen” Latts says it with an upbeat tone, giving a small chuckle as he tries to add some energy voice, tries to divert his thinking from the kiss, tries to do anything to not find himself thinking about the kiss. Tom doesn’t want to discuss it, Tom probably doesn’t want to remember. He’s giving Latts a pass.  
They don’t talk for the next hour and a bit, Tom leaves the kitchen, leaves Latts alone and stays in his room. Latts finds himself drowning in deep thoughts about his feelings for Tom, all he wants to do is talk to Tom, cut the bullshit. Get straight to the point. But Tom just makes it clear that he doesn’t want to discuss it, and it’s like a swift punch to the gut, just like how he didn’t wish Latts ‘goodnight’ last night.  
They have more small talk on their way to practice later in the evening, it was an optional practice and since it was later in the evening that’s why Backstrom had threw the party last night, though it didn’t mean that Latts and Tom weren’t gonna go.   
The car ride was silent, Tom didn’t turn on the radio to the local country station, which meant Tom didn’t sing along under his breath like he usually did.  
Latts didn’t say anything about Tom’s out of habit behaviour, he knew it was because of the kiss, and he sat in somber thought over the fact that the undiscussed kiss was slowly prying away their close friendship. By the time they had gotten to the arena Latts was thankful to get out of the car, to escape the quiet. He can handle Tom being mad at him over the kiss, but the one thing he can’t handle is not talking to Tom. it was one fucking kiss, why was it so hard for Tom to talk about.  
Practice went how practice usually went, a lot of sweat and chirps, and Latts memorized by Tom’s hands and his puck work, and the way he glided down the ice, and the way he did everything. Watching Tom play hockey was like being a kid and watching a magic show, it was just phenomenal, and Latts loved it. Latts loved Tom. Every part of him, everything about him. Latts loved him playing hockey, Latts loved him not playing hockey, Latts loved him, he loved him, he loved him, he loved him. That’s why Tom not talking to him about the kiss last night hurt him so much, that’s why Tom acting out of his ordinary hurt him so much. Latts loved Tom.  
Latts loved him, so that’s why when practice ended and the two boys got into the car, and Tom began to drive down the road, that Latts knew that he couldn’t just not talk about the kiss. Latts knew that he had to be the one to bring it up, that he couldn’t just hint at it and wait for Tom to be the one who says it. Latts loved him, and Tom withdrawing and not being himself and not talking to Latts hurt more than any punch to the face.  
“Tom, we need to talk about last night” Latts spoke quietly, looking from the passenger side window and over at Tom, watching his hands tightening almost instantly around the wheel.  
“What do you mean, we talked about it in the kitchen?”   
Tom’s reply was uncertain, and the underlying tone in his voice sent a wave of panic over Latts, he bit his lip and looked away from Tom. His throat was tightening and maybe Tom was right, maybe the did talk about it in the kitchen, maybe that was it. The kiss was nothing, there was nothing to talk about. But the words came unexpectedly out of Latts’ mouth, he wasn’t planning on going on any further, it was involuntary, he thinks. “I-I kissed you last night, Tom. I pressed my lips against yours and I kissed you”  
Latts voice was shaky and he didn’t dare to look at Tom, and it was so quiet that Latts could hear Tom swallow in response, hear the way that Tom immediately turned the car onto the shoulder of the road and just put the stick shift into park.  
“It wasn’t just a drunk kiss, it was more than that. I-I’ve wanted to do that for the last year. I’ve wanted to kiss you so badly, and we need to talk about that, you can’t just not talk abou-”  
Latts had turned his head mid-speech, looking at Tom with his elbow propped up against the window as he looked off forward, biting his thumb as he listened, and before Latts could even finish his rant Tom had unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned over, stretching his arm out to grab the right side of Latts’ neck and pull him into a deep kiss.  
It felt a little bit like uncertain desperation coming from Tom’s side, like he just wanted Latts to shut the fuck up, but Latts melted into it more and more and pushed back a little, and Tom had started to rub his thumb across Latts’ skin like he was more at ease.   
The kiss slowly evolved, Latts greedily parting Tom’s lip and pressing his tongue against Tom’s tongue, and they began to move in sync, Tom moving his hand down Latts’ neck and pulling him even closer than possible by the neck of his shirt, and then Latts arm reached out and his hand running down Tom’s chest, slowly getting closer and closer to his belt buckle.  
Tom is, again, the one to break the kiss as Latts gets his hand greedily close to Tom’s belt buckle. Tom doesn’t say anything, still, and he buckles back up and puts the stick shift into drive, continuing on their way home as Latts finds himself, once again, engulfed in the quiet as he stares out the passenger side window. 

Aaah, just tell me  
Say anything  
Anything hurts less than the quiet  
Just tell me  
Say anything  
Anything hurts less than the quiet

A week and half goes by until anything else happens between Latts and Tom.   
Tom still doesn’t talk about either of the kisses, or anything about his feelings or Latts’ feelings. It’s more quiet between the two, the apartment seems a bit dull and Latts feels like their friendship is a bit strained due to everything that’s happened. But Latts doesn’t admit that, he doesn’t talk about it because Tom doesn’t want to talk about it. Things do feel normal like nothing happened, like how they were before the kiss, but it’s only when Burky comes over, or if they hang around with any of the other boys, it’s like they forget.  
They’re on the couch, watching hockey highlights off of TSN, but Latts can’t help it. He can’t help not looking at Tom, and he can’t not help feeling what he’s feeling.   
“Can we just talk about it” Latts asks, but it’s more like a beg, he needs Tom to talk about it, he needs to discuss his feelings, Latts just needs to understand what the fuck is going on. Why the fuck is it so fucking quiet all the time, why the fuck did a kiss or two stop Tom from being his Tom.  
It’s as if every time Latts asks to talk, something just turns on in Tom, like he just needs Latts to shut the fuck up and just not. The distance between them as they sit on the couch is covered by Tom in mere milliseconds as he he one knee on either side of Latts, neck bent down as he starts to kiss on him, Tom’s hand knocking off Latts’ backwards ballcap as they begin to makeout. It’s different than the last time they kissed, more desperation, and more sexual, the kisses are sloppy on Tom’s behalf as he grinds his body down against Latts’, causing the bulge in the older boy’s pants to grow rather fast and Tom is aware. His left hand immediately moves down Latts’ chest and begins to rub his bulge, soft moans escaping from his mouth and into Tom’s, making Tom pull away and begins to mouth at Latts’ neck as he slips his hand under the waistband of Latts’ sweatpants. Tom curves his long fingers around Latts’ hard cock and it’s perfect, it’s fucking godly the way Tom holds his dick softly in his hand as he pumps ever slowly, running his thumb over the slit of Latts’ dick.  
Instinctively, Latts buckles his hips up and slides his sweatpants mid thigh as Tom is still on him, still kissing at his neck and beginning to jerk him more quickly. Latts’ hands run under Tom’s shirt, one running smoothly against the small of Tom’s back, and the other feeling it’s away over Tom’s pecs and his abs. He’s beautiful, Tom is beautiful, his body feels beautiful, perfectly carved by the hockey gods.   
The next thing Latts notices as Tom starts to kiss his mouth again, is that he’s cumming, his hips jerking up into Tom as he his dick slides in and out of his clenched hand, spilling his cum all over Tom’s hand and onto both of their shirts. Tom is the one who breaks the kiss, sitting up straight, knees still on either side of Latts. He has a small side smirk as he looks from Latts, who is catching his breath, and then down at Latts’ limp cock, and then down at himself.   
Latts takes the hint, reaching out his hands as he pulls down Tom’s athletic shorts and stares at Tom’s dick flopping out. It’s big, way bigger than Latts’ cock, and it’s fucking beautiful.  
Tom gets off of Latts, and pulls down his shorts to his ankles and sits next to the older boy, the smirk still present on his face as he looks over at Latts who is still staring at his cock.  
A part of Latts just wants to ask Tom what the fuck is happening with them, and Tom must have noticed it because he stretches his arm out and around Latts’ shoulder and starts to kiss him, and Latts finds his hand sliding from his side as he kisses Tom and he begins to wrap his fingers around Tom’s dick, thumb rubbing the the head of his dick that was already wet with precome. Tom cums in a matter of minutes, head buried into Latts neck as he bites down on his collarbone and swears.   
Neither of them say anything. Tom pulls off his cum-stained shirt and pulls up his athletic shorts and leaves the living room. Latts does the same and goes to bed.  
Tom doesn’t say goodnight for the eleventh night in a row.

**Author's Note:**

> To be continued.


End file.
